One Day at a Time
by shippershape
Summary: Andy and Sam are back at work, though he's now a detective and she's been gone for six months undercover. Sam's with someone new, and Andy has to put her own feelings aside. Can they figure out how to work together without being together, or will their history get in the way? Picks up after 4x01, McSwarek Rated T but may change to M. I hope you like it, please review good or bad!
1. One Day at a Time

Andy knelt silently on the pavement, studying the spatter of blood across the sidewalk. Her gloved hand reached forward and traced the crimson swirls of a partial shoe print on the gray concrete.

"McNally, earth to McNally." Andy looked up to see Sam peering over her shoulder at the print.

"Did you find something?" She tried to keep her voice neutral, but it was cooler than she meant it to be. Sam raised his eyebrows at her, but didn't comment on it.

"I've been calling you for the past five minutes, would you mind dragging your ass out of the clouds and joining me here?" The easiness of his tone, coupled with his casual manner towards her all day made it clear she was a colleague, and nothing but. Andy picked up on it, and it hurt, deep. As hard as she tried to brush it off, the wound was still fresh. Just as, apparently, was their victims.

"The blood here, the shoe print, it's still wet Sam. Whoever was here can't have been gone more than ten minutes. And judging from the amount of blood here, they won't be very far." Andy didn't know if they were looking for a helpless victim or a violent criminal, but her stomach tightened uncomfortable at the idea that they could be looking for a body. She didn't know if she could handle it today. She glanced up at Sam, his dark eyes clouded with thought, and felt her heart constrict. One day at a time, she told herself. Carelessly, Sam grabbed her hand to pull her up, and Andy's heart gave another pathetic kick. One minute at a time, she revised, as the pain squeezed her chest, just one minute.

Unaware and unaffected by what was taking place in Andy's head, Sam released her hand and reached for his radio. He called in a BOLO for their victim, whom witnesses had described as a white male, early thirties, wearing an orange windbreaker. The jacket would be easy enough to identify, he thought to himself, but the inevitable mosaic of blood that likely covered it would be easier. No one had seen what had happened, according to the few fine citizens that had spoken to him at all, but two separate witnesses had shared the same story of seeing the bloody man stagger out of the alley and then disappear.

Sam turned back towards Andy and had to avert his gaze when it fell on her bent over the cruiser, writing notes. He told himself he was only human, and only a man, when his eyes skimmed her fine ass in those stupid navy slacks. He tried not to notice the way the sun lit up streaks of red in her hair, darker than when he met her, but still soft enough to run his hands through. He shook his head, and looked away. He half wished he didn't know what it was like to tangle his fingers in that long, dark hair, tugging her head backwards to expose her neck to his lips. But he did. And though he was happy with Marlo, and his relationship with McNally was platonic now, these memories haunted him.

He didn't want her, he told himself. She'd left him just when he finally opened up to her. She had taken his vulnerability and thrown it in his face. They were just colleagues now, hell, he was a detective and she was only a few years out of the academy. He could easily smother his feelings for some rookie who chose her career over him. As he thought it, a small hand grabbed his shoulder and he swiveled to see Andy's face inches from his. They both took an involuntary step backwards. Her stunning brown eyes dropped from his, then met his gaze.

"The station called, Peckstein brought in a white male matching the description we gave. He's at the barn now but EMS are on their way to pick him up. They said we could meet them at the hospital, but he's in pretty bad shape." Her voice, almost young, but with that hint of rasp, seemed to seep right into his bones as she spoke. Refusing to acknowledge it, Sam flashed her his dimpled grin, then turn towards the car.

"You coming McNally?" He didn't bother to look back at her as he strode towards the drivers side. Suddenly she was right in front of him, blocking his path.

"Where do you think you're going?" There was enough confidence in her voice to have him checking his pockets for the keys. He looked up to see her dangling them in front of him, laughter glinting in her eyes. He narrowed his own at her.

"I wouldn't have taken you for a thief McNally." He held out his hand for the keys, but she didn't drop them. Nudging him out of the way with her hip, Andy slid into the driver's seat and smiled innocently up at him.

"You coming Swarek?" His answering glare lasted a few seconds before he gave up and stomped over to the passenger's seat.

'I'm a d," he muttered, " working the streets like some damn beat cop, and I don't even get to drive." Sam looked over to see Andy laughing, that arresting grin causing something in his gut to tighten. One day at a time, he told himself. Just one day.


	2. Falling For Her

"Nick," Andy muttered, prodding her sleeping partner, "Wake up you idiot." Nick jerked awake with an obvious start, and drew dirty looks from the cops sitting closest to them. He glanced blearily around as Oliver cleared his throat from the podium at the front of the room.

"As I'm sure you all know, the long weekend ahead of us is probably going to be pretty eventful. There will be a lot of DUIs, some drunk and disorderlys and maybe even some public indecency, if you play your cards right." He smirked and a few chuckles reverberated around the room.

"Speaking of indecent, I think a warm welcome back is in order for our radiant new mother and senior officer Noelle Williams." Oliver backed away as Noelle, looking tired but happy, stepped forwards.

"Thank you, thank you." She took a bow and Oliver resumed briefing the room on the importance of their presence as the weekend played out, and staying visible. Andy leaned towards Nick and whispered into his ear.

"What's wrong with you today?" Her look of concern faced the front of the room, but he heard it in her voice.

"I'm just tired, I had a long night." His clipped tone had Andy sitting back in her seat, feeling dismissed. Oliver concluded his lecture, and the navy clad audience around them began to disperse. A little stung, Andy stood without a word, and headed towards the door. Nick followed her, conflict in his eyes.

"Andy," he reached out to grab her elbow as they strode through the hallway, but she pulled away. "Wait." She turned, gazing coolly up at him. Looking down at her, he noticed the way her long eyelashes cast shadows across her cheek, and her deep brown eyes seemed to look right through him. It didn't make what he had to say easier.

"We broke up." His words hung in the air, and he winced, visibly, as the look of pity settled onto her face.

"Nick, I'm sorry," Andy began, trailing off at his expression. She could see in his eyes that he didn't want her sympathy, and bit her lip. "Tell you what, you're driving. If you cry I'm revoking the offer." Dropping the keys into his hand, she turned and walked away. Her arms itched to pull him into a hug, but she knew him well enough to know that wasn't what he needed.

Having been mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of questions and condolences, Nick blinked at Andy's reply. He looked down at the keys in his hand, and broke out in a grin. Relief flooded him and he started after Andy. Was it any wonder he was in love with her?

After a long, but playful shift of easy banter and traffic stops, Nick and Andy laughed as they entered the station. A quick shove from Andy had Nick falling sideways, pulling her down on top of him as he fell. They landed in a heap of tangled limbs on the floor. Not at all minding the feeling of Andy's weight on top of him, Nick lay still for a moment, pretending to be unconscious.

"Nick?" Andy's voice was suspicious, and he couldn't suppress a devilish grin as she poked him in the chest. He felt, rather than heard, her laughter vibrating through her body. With his face pressed to the ground, Nick opened his eyes to see a pair of worn black leather boots. His gaze followed the denim clad legs up to the surly face of Sam Swarek, who cleared his throat.

Andy struggled to free her legs from Nicks, aware of the intimate position in which they had landed. At first glance, Sam seemed less than impressed with what he saw, but then, Andy thought, they were probably just in his way.

"I know you were out of the office for a while McNally," Sam looked bemusedly down at the pair, then offered her his hand, "but you can get a hell of alot more work done when you aren't lying on the floor." Andy grabbed the hand he held out, and pulled herself up, feeling a flush creep up her neck. She turned to help up Nick, but he was already standing. Facing back toward Sam, she gave a casual shrug.

"You were the one who taught me that it helps to have a new perspective." She flashed him a quick smile, and his answering smirk triggered a lurch in her stomach. She wondered absently how long it would take before she could see him and not feel this way. Fake it till you make it, she remembered grimly, and stepped around him.

"You coming?" She asked Nick, who had watched the exchange quietly. He seemed to let out a breath, then gave Sam an apologetic glance.

"See you, Swarek." Nick gave a half wave then followed after Andy.

"See you." Sam mumbled quietly, as he watched the pair of them stroll towards the lockers, Nick's arm around Andy's waist. A bitter taste in his mouth, Sam made a stop on his way out of the station. Sticking his head into Best's office, he gave his staff Sergeant a winning smile.

"Hey sarge, I've got a nomination for desk duty next rotation," he announced, turning his keys over in his palm. Best eyed him suspiciously, then leaned forward, his hands twined together on his desk.

"Yeah, who'd you have in mind?" The dark stripes on his shoulders contrasted boldy against the white of his uniform, giving him the look of the authority he had recently acquired. Sam let a smirk flash across his dark features before stifling it with a neutral expression.

"Collins," He said innocently, "kid was sleeping in parade this morning."


	3. Like Old Times

Blinking against the sun streaming in through the open window, Sam rolled onto his side and reached out to find an empty bed. The sheets were still warm, and he could hear the steady waterfall of his shower. With a quick sigh, he staggered out of bed, following the sound of the water. The steam hit him as he opened the bathroom door, and he could barely make out the silhouette of a curvy brunnette as she washed the dark hair that fell to her lower back. With a grin, he slid into the shower behind her.

Marlo smirked as she felt Sam's arms twine around her neck, the feeling of his lips on her shoulder raised goosebumps on her olive skin.

"Sam-" her voice was cut off as he spun her around and pressed his mouth to hers, his hands gripping her back. Her head fell back as his tongue trailed down her neck. "Sam,"

"Shh." He ignored her half hearted attempts to push him away, and pulled her closer, breathing in the floral perfume of her shampoo. He had always preferred sweet fruity scents on a woman, but somehow the formality of floral suited Marlo. She pushed at him again, this time succeeding in creating a space between them.

"Sam, I have to go to airport. I'm picking up Jane today, remember?" She held her hand against his chest, but it felt more like a warning than a comfort. He backed off. Marlo dropped her arm and gave him an apologetic smile.

"Right," Sam nodded, he remembered her telling him that her friend from the West Coast was coming out. He also remembered her telling him that Jane would be staying with her for the week, and keeping Marlo pretty busy. "I guess this is the most I'll see of you for a week then. Better make it count." He stepped towards her and she sidestepped him, stepping out of the shower onto the mat.

"I can't. Sorry, I'm already late." She leaned forwards to give him a quick kiss, then disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Sam alone in the shower. Irritated, he grabbed the soap a little too aggressively, and it shot forward onto the floor. He bent to pick it up, grumbling, and crashed face first into the hard stone wall.

"Shit!" He grabbed the door handle to steady himself, and stepped out to the mirror, to asses the damage. A trickle of blood ran steadily from his temple, which throbbed. Grabbing one of Marlo's white face cloths to stem the flow, he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed towards the closet. Today was just going to be one of those days.

"Just don't say I didn't warn you," Andy shot a glance at Traci and stepped out of the car. "He's a Peck, they're all trouble." She raised her voice as she said it, giving Gail a winning smile as she walked past them through the parking lot. Gail turned to give her the finger, then continued inside. Traci laughed and fell in step beside Andy.

"I know, he's been so great though. You should have seen the way he was with Noelle. He kind of saved the day." She gave Andy a questioning look, almost asking for permission. Sadness twinged in Andy's chest as she realized Traci was wondering if it was okay to move on. Jerry had been a huge part of her life, and she knew Traci carried his death with her. Maybe she always would, but Andy knew he would have wanted Traci to be happy, to make a life for her and Leo. She sighed.

"Well he can't be worse than Gail." Traci grinned, and shook her head.

"Oh, Swarek at one o'clock. He looks pissed." Traci gestured at a gray truck, from which the dark haired detective emerged, looking very surly. Traci gave Andy an inquisitive glance, wondering whether they were still avoiding him. Andy shrugged.

"I can't avoid him forever right? I might as well start making good on that whole friends thing. I'll see you inside." She gave her friend a wave and headed towards Sam, her heart fluttering nervously. As she got closer, Sam looked up, and Andy noticed a deep gash on his head, still slightly bleeding.

"Oh my god, what happened?" She closed the last few feet between them at a run, and gently grabbed his face to turn the bloody side towards her. She wasn't oblivious to the fact that he smelled amazing, obviously fresh out of the shower. The cut was deep and long, the fact that it was still trickling blood suggested that it would probably need stitches. Sam swatted at her and she smacked his hands away, resisting his attempts to escape her grip.

"Knock it off, McNally, I'm fine. It's just a scratch." He reached up and grabbed her hands, pulling them of his face. He turned to face her, and was surprised to see those beautiful brown eyes wide with fear. "Seriously Andy, I just fell in the shower." He realized he was still holding her hands, and dropped them awkwardly.

"I think you need stitches," Her voice was steady, but her heart was pounding and she prayed he couldn't hear it. "Come on let me take you to the hospital, we can be back before shift starts." She hated saying it, wishing she could tell him to take the day off, but she knew he would never agree to that. When he rolled his eyes at her, she was struck with an idea. "Don't make me call Monica."

Sam eyed her irritably, as much as he knew she would hate to see Monica, she wasn't bluffing. He was surprised to find himself touched that she would do that for him. Still, he hesitated.

"_Sam_" She groaned, exasperated. Resigned, he stepped backwards and gestured towards the truck. She smiled and her hand struck out to swipe the keys from his hand. "You could have a concussion. I"m driving." She strode confidently to the door and hopped up easily into the drivers seat. He wondered why her familiarity with his truck was so appealing to him. Once again, he found himself in the passengers seat, yet somehow he didn't mind so much this time. As he looked over at Andy he felt the aggravation he'd been carrying all morning slowly ebb away, replaced with a sense of contentment he couldn't explain. Even the pain in his head lessened a little. He closed his eyes and heard his truck roar to life.

"Be careful of the-"

"Brakes, yeah I know." Andy cut off his warning before he could get it out. Sam grinned despite himself, and between the low growling of his engine, and the familiar smell of Andy's coconut shampoo, he drifted off to sleep.


	4. Some Kind of Thanks

As she pulled up at a red light, it occurred to Andy that Sam was being unnaturally compliant considering he was being taken to the hospital. Stealing a sideways glance, Andy felt a pang of alarm as she saw Sam's head lolled to the side, his breathing deep and even.

"Damnit Sam!" She shouted in irritation, and reached over to give him a hard shove. When he didn't wake, she signalled and pulled over to the side of the road. Checking for oncoming cars, Andy jumped from the cab and raced around to the passenger side. She yanked the door open, and climbed up beside Sam. He didn't even start as she shook him, and she felt her heart give a little lurch. Pull yourself together, she thought, and took a deep breath. Shifting so she was sitting in his lap, she drew her arm back and slapped him, hard. The resounding crack was loud enough to startle her, but when Sam's eyes flew open, accompanied with a low moan, she sat back in relief. To prevent him from seeing her shaking hands, she slid out of his lap, back onto the pavement. He winced as he turned his head slowly to look at her.

"What was that for?" He sounded disoriented, but indignant. Andy just shook her head. Walking back to her side of the truck, she took a moment to let out a shaky breath and collect herself. When she hopped back into the car she was calm, at least outwardly.

"Just shut up." She didn't even look at him for the rest of the drive, though she listened intently to his breathing in case he fell back asleep. She'd had a moment, just one, where she had been genuinely afraid that she had lost him. As soon as he opened his eyes she had sobered up to realize that he was no longer hers to lose. It was supposed to get easier, she mused, seeing the person who broke your heart everyday. Working with your ex forced you to face your emotions head on, and you either got over them, or you didn't. She refused to be one of those people who couldn't move on, and this day was just the push she needed. Sam wasn't hers to look after anymore. She loved him, Andy knew that much, but maybe it was time for a little more distance.

As they pulled into the parking lot at the hospital, Andy turned to Sam, and shut off the truck. He hadn't broken her silence, and she assumed he didn't care whether she spoke to him or not. It was yet another blow to her bruised heart, it hurt just as much as the others. She barely met his eyes, but even from that she could see how out of it he was. Distance would have to wait. She waited for the slam of his door, and frowned in concern as he took a wide turn towards the emergency room. The mix of dried and fresh blood on his head, plus his unsteady footing gave him the look of an accident victim. Andy rushed forward to catch him as he stumbled. His weight was almost too much for her, but she gritted her teeth and slipped her arm around his waist.

Sam felt uncomfortably out of control as Andy lead him to a chair and grabbed some forms from the desk. The room spun unpleasantly, and the throbbing in his head had intensified when he woke up from his little nap. He was sure he could thank Andy and her not so gentle slap to the face for that. Not that he had minded waking up to her sitting in his lap. A smirk escaped and he winced, feeling the sting of where she had slapped him. He would be surprised if there wasn't a bright red handprint across his jaw. He turned towards her, and studied the angry set of her face, eyes narrowed as she scribbled on the clipboard a nurse had given her. She hadn't spoken to him at all after telling him to shut up, and he wondered if she felt roped in to staying with him.

"McNally," He cleared his throat, and she looked up from a question about his medical insurance with a cool stare. "You don't have to stay. I'm fine, I'll be a good boy and get the stitches I swear." Andy just rolled her eyes.

"First of all, I don't believe you. You're obviously not fine, and I know if I leave you here you'll just drive yourself right back to the station. Secondly, I'm not going anywhere. I'm keeping my eye on you." With that she turned back to the forms, and Sam let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. She was right, he didn't feel fine. In fact, he was sure he had a concussion from the nausea and searing pain in his head. He would never admit that he was glad to have her there, but he was. She stood up suddenly, and he raised his eyebrows at her.

"You in a hurry? Because we could be here for a while. I'm not high priority like, say, that guy." Sam gestured towards a young man who had just been rolled in, what looked like the handle of a switch blade protruding from his chest. Andy cringed.

"I'm just going to go drop these off, and make a phone call. Don't even think about falling asleep while I'm gone." She strode towards the desk, and Sam leaned back in his chair.

"Man, you lucked out." The voice came from Sam's left, and he swivelled to discover a handsome young blonde wearing a sling across his right shoulder. "That's your girl?" His shocking blue eyes were trained on Andy's backside as she bent over the front desk, talking to the nurse. Sam felt a twinge of annoyance.

"Uh, no she's not my girl. She's just my..." He was about to say rookie, then realized she hadn't been for two years. "Colleague." Was that all she was to him now? It didn't seem to fit, but it was all he had.

"Dustin." The blonde held out his good hand, and Sam shook it. He had the calluses, and the build, of someone with a physical job. "That's a nasty looking mark there, bro." He pointed towards Sam's head.

"Sam. Yeah I, uh, fell into a wall." He turned forwards in hopes of discouraging further conversation, but Dustin persisted.

"I was talking about that handprint on the side of your face." Dustin smirked. "Is that the handiwork of your, what did you call her, your colleague?" When Sam looked for Andy as he struggled with his irritation with Dustin, he realized she had disappeared.

"Yeah. Andy's got a bit of a temper." He didn't feel like talking to this moron any longer, and stood up, quickly enough to get an unpleasant head rush.

"Andy huh? Well if you guys aren't together, what would you say to giving me her number?" Dustin flashed Sam a winsome smile, and Sam felt his fist twitch. Why was he so annoyed? McNally could date whoever she wanted, and she was, he realized, remembering the display her and Collins put on back at the station. He gave Dustin a pat on his slinged shoulder, maybe a little harder than was necessary, and shrugged.

"Hey if you see her, you can ask her yourself. I'm gonna hit the can." He walked away, trying to shake the possessive anger he felt at the image of Andy and Dustin, or Collins, together. Irritated with himself, he set out to find her.

After dropping off Sam's paperwork, Andy headed outside to make a phone call, not wanting to disobey the no cell phone signs that papered the hospital walls. Typing the number from memory, she leaned against the wall and let out a breath. The day had barely begun and she was already exhausted.

"Hello?" The voice on the line brought her back, and she rubbed her face tiredly.

"Hey, look, I'm at the hospital and I might be here a while. Can you tell Frank I'm gonna be late for shift?"

"Are you okay? Why are you at the hospital? What happened?" The concern in Nick's voice touched her, and Andy smiled despite herself.

"I'm fine. Sam had an accident this morning, I just brought him in to get stitches, and checked out for a concussion." She could hear Nick letting out a sigh of relief, and found herself wishing he was there to cheer her up. He'd always had a knack for making her laugh.

"What'd Swarek do?" Nick sounded relieved, clearly not worried about what had happened to Sam.

"He fell in the shower." In her preoccupied state, Andy didn't realize how it sounded until Nick fell silent on the other end. "Uh, in his shower. At his house, obviously. I didn't see him until I got to work and his head was bleeding." She was babbling, like she always did when she was uncomfortable. She didn't know why she felt the need to explain herself to Nick.

"Look, I've got to go. Oliver wants me to get him shawarma from that place that's only open for forty-five minutes during lunch, but do you want to get a drink tonight?" His tone was casual, too casual, and Andy picked up on it. Curious, she decided it couldn't hurt.

"Yeah sure, I can meet you at ten? I still have your shirt anyways, I keep forgetting to bring it to you." When they were undercover, some of his things had gotten mixed up with hers, and she kept finding them as she gradually unpacked.

"I'll pick you up at ten, see you then."

"Okay, see you at ten." Andy hung up and turned to head back inside. As she looked up from her phone, she came face to face with Sam.

"How long have you been standing there?" She didn't like the smug smile on his face, or the way it made her feel like she'd been caught doing something wrong.

"Oh, not too long. Was that Collins?" His voice matched his expression, smug and arrogant. It didn't sit well with Andy. "How long have you two been sleeping together?" He imagined the two of them cozy together during their months undercover. Months that Sam had been trying desperately to move on from Andy. It drove him crazy, irrational anger turning him into an asshole. He knew he was being unfair, he knew his words would hurt her, but he couldn't stop.

Stunned at his accusation, and the depth that it wounded her, Andy took a step back.

"That's cozy, convenient. You moved on pretty fast, but hey, you guys were shacked up anyways." His fake smile strained his face, and he hated himself for what he was doing to her, he could see the pain and betrayal in her face. He struggled to rein himself in. "Wait Andy, that was out of line-" He reached out and she held up a finger.

"Don't." Her hand shook, and he could see her eyes shining. Regret crashed into him, and he retreated a step.

"Are you going to slap me again?" He joked half halfheartedly, but Andy didn't smile.

"You're not even worth it." Her voice was low and flat, it hit Sam in the stomach as he realized the damage he had done. With that, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone.


	5. Don't Think, Just Do

When Sam emerged from the hospital, sewn back together and cleared for duty, he headed towards his truck. He was more than a little surprised to see Andy waiting inside. He briefly wondered if this meant she had forgiven him, but her expression as he neared her suggested otherwise. She started the truck as he hopped inside, and pulled out of the spot without a word. Sam wasn't sure if she would talk to him, but decided to try anyways.

"I thought you had left." He studied the face he knew so well, set in unfamiliar serious lines. He had never liked to see her like this, and the guilty knot in his stomach tightened.

"Yeah, well I wasn't sure if you would be okay to drive, so." Her voice was flat and alien to Sam, he had never been frozen out like this before. He was about to apologize again as his phone shrieked in his pocket. Wincing at the flash of pain in his head, he held it up to his ear.

"Hey." He turned to face the window, not that Andy was paying any attention to him.

"Hey. How's work?" Marlo's voice barely made it through the terrible connection.

"I, uh, haven't quite made it there yet." He didn't offer an explanation, and Marlo didn't ask. He'd realized early on in their relationship that she wasn't really one for sharing. Their conversations were superficial and sparse, and it had never really bothered Sam. Their relationship was fine the way it was.

"Oh, okay," Marlo sounded distracted, and Sam waited patiently for her to get to the point. "Hey, I think I left my straightener on, in the bathroom. Could you run back and check?" Sam felt a brief twinge of annoyance, he was already late for shift. He sighed and absentmindedly ran his fingers over his stitches.

"Yeah. Okay. I gotta go, I'll call you later." Sam hit the end button before Marlo could reply, and dropped his phone into his lap. He looked up just as they reached the station, and Andy cut the engine. She reached to pull the keys from the ignition, but Sam grabbed her hand.

"Just leave the keys, I have to head home to check something anyways." Andy recoiled as he grabbed her, and it hurt Sam enough to have him pull away. He was very aware of exactly how badly he had screwed up, and it frustrated him. Despite them not being together he had been glad to have Andy back in his life when her UC work ended. The idea of her not talking to him at all struck real fear into him. He needed her. As she turned and swung the truck door open, Sam scrambled for the right thing to say, anything to close the distance she had put between them. He had nothing. "Andy-" She glanced back, waiting.

"Thank you. For today." It was the best he could do, he knew even if he could find the apology within him she wouldn't hear it, not yet. Time and space, he remembered, she hated them, but maybe that was what she needed. Andy nodded curtly and stepped down onto the ashphalt.

"No problem." She slammed the door in his face and once again walked away without a backwards glance. Sam sighed and slid into the drivers seat. He found himself wishing he had stayed in bed .

As the clock neared ten, Andy grabbed the blazer off the back of her couch, and glanced quickly in the mirror. After she'd gotten off work, Dov and Chloe had stopped by to ask for help moving Chloe into her new place. Reeling her in with the promise of pizza and beer, she'd barely gotten back in time to shower and throw on a fresh pair of jeans. In an attempt to dress it up a little she'd donned a low cut blue halter top that she hadn't worn in years. Clearly her bust had expanded a little, from the amount of cleavage now spilling out of it, but it wasn't indecent and given the fact that someone was knocking at her door, she didn't have time to change. She threw on the blazer and swung open the door. Nick stood, looking nervous, his eyebrows shooting upwards as he took in her outfit.

"You look nice." He meant it, as he inwardly marveled at how sexy she could look in a pair of jeans. She smiled sheepishly and shook her head.

"You're being sarcastic. I should change, right?" She place a hand on her chest, shielding the impressive amount of cleavage on display. Nick shook his head forcefully.

"No, you look great." He grabbed her hand and dragged her away from the door and towards his jeep. "In fact I really like that outfit." Andy laughed and smacked him playfully.

"Yeah, I bet." She slid into the car and let her head fall back to rest against the window. Her eyelids felt heavy and she struggled to keep them open. "So, what's the mystery topic of this talk you wanted to have?" She faced him and raised her eyebrows. For some reason he looked nervous. Andy got the sense the talk was slightly more important than she had previously assumed, and tried to wake herself up.

"We can talk about it when we get to the Penny, I want to hear about why you were three hours late today." Nick gave Andy a charming smile, and she ignored the obvious subject change.

"I don't really want to talk about Sam." She shrugged and looked out the window, trying to push the memories from the morning out of her mind. The resentment flared in her stomach, and she suppressed it. The last thing she wanted was to relive that conversation.

Nick turned to look at Andy, and noted the tense set of her shoulders and the creases on her forehead. He was curious, but he didn't want to push her. Besides, talking about Swarek wasn't exactly going to make the conversation he had planned easier. He knew there were some unresolved issues between the two of them, but he really didn't know the extent of it. Part of him wanted to know what he was up against.

"How about some music?" He reached over and punched at the radio, filling the car with a blast of classic rock. Andy laughed and swiped at the volume control.

"What are you, sixteen? You're going to go deaf if you keep that up." Even as she said it, her head bobbed along with the beat. Soon enough she was humming.

"Oh, no." Nick glanced at his passenger, who was starting to sing under her breath, and grabbed to change the station, but it was too late. Andy belted out the first line of the chorus, and swiveled to face him, one hand on his cheek.

"It feels like the first time," She was practically yelling in his face and Nick found himself wiping tears from his eyes as he laughed. The road was a blur, but her energy was contagious and the laughter took over.

"Andy, stop. You're a really terrible singer." His pleading, when he finally caught his breath long enough, was weak.

"It feels like the very first time! Woo!" She pumped a fist in the air and dissolved into peals of laughter just as they pulled into the parking lot of the Penny. Nick felt the grin stretching from ear to ear as he shook his head and snorted. In no way was what he had just witnessed a serenade, but he had to admit he was smitten. He undid his seat belt and turned around just in time to see Andy lean forwards.

"Thanks for-" Andy didn't get a chance to finish her sentence, she was cut off by Nick's mouth on hers, his hand on her face. Shocked, she didn't pull away, and he took that as permission. Moving his hands down to her hips, Nick pulled Andy into his lap, and pressed her forwards, straight into the horn. The loud blast startled them apart, and Andy stared at him with wide eyes.

"We should go inside." She mumbled as she reached for the door handle and slid off Nick's lap onto the concrete. He nodded, his mind still in the kiss. Andy bit her lip and turned towards the Penny, about to make a beeline for the door when a shock of platinum blonde hair caught her eye just to the left. Her heart sank in her chest. She started towards the girl, but she took off and disappeared through the back door to the bar. Just then, Andy realized Nick had caught up to her and was gazing concernedly down at her.

"Andy," he was tentative, not wanting to freak her out even more. He knew the kiss had been a mistake, surprising her like that, but he hadn't been able to help himself. "What's wrong?" She looked up at him, her big brown eyes full of guilt, and he had a feeling he knew who she had seen. She turned away from him and crossed her arms in front of her chest. When she opened her mouth, Nick had an urge to grab her and continue what they had started in the Jeep.

"Gail." She muttered, and she headed into the Penny without another word.


	6. Keep Your Friends Close

"Yes?" Gail emerged with a pleasant smile that chilled Andy, and made the pit in her stomach even worse.

"Gail, I want to talk about what you saw, it's not what you think." She followed Gail to the sink, and leaned against the wall, opening her mouth to defend herself.

"It looked like you were kissing my ex-boyfriend." Gail turned to Andy, and nudged her out of the way to reach the paper towels. The cordial tone of her voice made Andy even more nervous. She knew this side of Gail, and she knew what it meant. "Andy, Nick and I broke up. He's fair game now, right?" It unnerved Andy how Gail could manage to show all her teeth when she smiled.

"You've only been broken up for, like, less than a day. And I know how it looks, I do. But he kissed me. And there's nothing going on between us, or there wasn't before today. I would never do that to you." Andy had been watching Gail as she spoke, though her face remained impassive.

"But you did." With that, Gail shoved past Andy, who thought she saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. Once she was gone, Andy stayed absolutely still, breathing heavily and fighting the pressure behind her eyelids. She hadn't wanted Nick to kiss her, it had just happened. She hadn't pushed him away, though. And as she could still feel his lips on hers, she knew that meant something. Once she had collected herself enough to face the crowd, she went to find Nick.

Nick had grabbed them a table while Andy was in the bathroom, and she spotted him just as he sat down with two shots of tequila. Andy sat across from him and raised her eyebrows.

"Tequila?" She asked, as she pulled her shot towards her. Nick smiled.

"Honestly, I thought the stronger the better, considering." He raised his glass, and Andy mirrored him before they both down their drinks. Making a face, he had never really gotten used to the taste, Nick grabbed Andy's hand on the table and signalled the server for two more. Andy glanced warily down at their hands on the table, Nick saw and pulled his away.

"Nick…" Andy was at a loss of what to say. She could still feel his hands on her hips, and see the look in his eyes when they had broken apart. She knew he was already invested in this, and she didn't know how she felt about it. "I think I just, I just need some time, you know? To… process." She half expected him to try and convince her, to tell her why they needed to be together, but he just nodded.

"Yeah, okay. I'm not going anywhere, though. Take your time, Andy, I'll still be here when you're ready." Their second round of shots arrived, and Andy grabbed hers and tossed it back without waiting. She grabbed Nick's too, and swallowed that, as well. Nick just smiled. "I'm going to go get us a few more of those, sit tight." He strode towards the bar, and returned with a pair of shot glasses, and a bottle of tequila. Andy stared.

"If I didn't know better, I would say you're trying to get me drunk." She gave him an appraising look. He laughed and poured her a shot, handing it to her.

"Right now, we're just friends, right? It's been a long time since we got drunk together. We faked it once, undercover. Let's blow off some steam." He sighed when Andy pushed the shot back towards the center of the table. "I'll keep my hands to myself, scouts honor." She nodded and grabbed the shot, holding it up.

"To us, whatever we are." She suggested. Nick grinned, and raised his glass. They both downed their shots.

Two hours later, a very drunk Nick poured an equally drunk Andy into a cab. As she watched him in the rearview window, even in her inebriated state, she felt a small pang of anxiety about the decision she was clearly going to have to make. But by the time the car pulled up in front of her house, she had long forgotten about it. In fact, she was barely awake. The cabbie gently roused her, and when she dug in her purse for her wallet, he shook his head.

"It's on me, officer." He gave her a wink, and she was too drunk to insist. Helping her up the stairs, he waited until he found her keys, and then drove off with a wave. Smiling to herself, Andy turned towards the door, and fumbled with her keys. As she brought them to the lock, she missed, and after a few more tries, finally gave up and set her keys aside to look for her phone. Upon glancing at it, the numbers swam in front of her eyes. She closed one and squinted with the other, hoping to make sense of it. When that failed, she just redial, not sure who her last phone call would have been to, or from, but much too drunk to care. A male voice picked up on the other end, but Andy was too distracted by the knife that was suddenly pressing against her throat to identiy it, or respond. With a clatter, she dropped it to the ground.

"Pick it up," A voice hissed into her ear, and the knife dug a little deeper into her skin. "Tell them you're fine, that you dialed them accidentally. And don't try anything." The hand that had clamped around her mouth around the same time the knife had appeared, eased away. And Andy crouched slowly to pick up the phone. She put it to her ear, and instantly recognized the worry coming over the line.

"Sam," she breathed. Hope flooded her, but she suppressed it when she felt the knife press harder into her throat. "I- pocket dialed you." She did her best to sound normal. but her windpipe was being crushed, and her usually-raspy voice came out roughly. There was a pause on the other end.

"Look, I'm really sorry about what I said at the hospital. I was out of line. Whatever you and Collins are doing, it's none of my business." Regret was plain in his voice, and Andy felt despair setting in. She loved him, after everything, and she would never get to see him again. She wiggled subtly in her attackers arms, and felt the cold muzzle of a gun against the exposed part of her back. Fear began to creep into her system, and she struggled against the alcohol induced haze around her brain.

"Shut him up, and get off the phone!" The voice in her ear was definitely male, but she didn't recognize it at all. Taking as deep a breath as her currently constricted position would allow, Andy gripped the phone tighter to her ear. It didn't matter now, she was going to die anyways.

"Alright, bye, I love you." She whispered into the phone, and hung up with a hollow feeling. She wondered if Sam would realize something was wrong, or if he would assume, rightly, that she was simply drunk. Half of her hoped he would just stay, safely, at home. The gun in her back poked her, and the attacker pushed her towards the door. She heard the jingling of keys, and realized she had left her keys on the railing when she was looking for her phone. Sure enough, a large hand holding a 9mm appeared in front of her, and slid the keys into her lock. With a steady hand, he unlocked the door and pushed Andy inside. When they were both securely inside, he seemed to relax, and turned Andy to face him, while keeping a firm hold on her hand. The face that Andy saw when she turned around was vaguely familiar, and she let out a breath of surprise.

"I know you," She mumbled, her drunken brain clumsily searching for the information to match the face of the muscular blond standing before her. The recognition came like a bolt of lightning, though it didn't make any sense to Andy. "You were at the hospital today." He let out a delighted laugh, and nodded manically.

"You remember me, good. My name's Dustin."


	7. A Fighter

***AUTHORS NOTE***

Thank you so much to everyone who read an reviewed, the reviews mean a lot to me and I love reading them, so please keep them coming! This chapter got really long, I should probably put a trigger warning on it as well. I hope you like it!

Sam stared at the phone in his hand, wondering if he had heard Andy correctly, or if it had even really been her. He shook his head. He knew her voice well enough, he knew without a doubt it had been Andy. He also knew she had been drinking, a lot, as he'd seen her at the Penny with Nick when he had dropped by to see Oliver. As much guilt as he felt for the way he had attacked her earlier, Sam couldn't deny there was something going on with her and Collins. He'd seen their hands together on the table, and the way Collins had looked at her. He hadn't been able to see Andy's face, but he was glad. If she'd been returning the look Collins had been giving her, Sam wasn't sure he could have handled seeing it. His memory of the morning only made him more confused as to the phone call. She had been so angry with him, he was sure she was going to freeze him out for days, maybe even weeks. It wasn't unlike Andy to forgive and forget so easily, but Sam had seen how hurt she had been. It wasn't adding up.

It was one thing for Andy to forgive him, but to call, just to tell him she still loved him? And then hang up without a word? Andy had always been big on talking, big on feelings. It hadn't suited Sam, who always ran from his emotions, always afraid of getting in over his head. He had been, with her. He had loved her, he still loved her, but he hadn't even been able to tell her until she was standing seconds away from death, an active grenade in her hand. It made him a coward, he was well aware of it. But Andy, she had always been the type to blurt out how she felt. The thing was, she wouldn't have just hung up. She would have waited for Sam to say something, and if he hadn't she would have talked, just babbled, to fill the silence. It was how she was. Her emotions bubbled over the surface and she couldn't stop talking, Sam suspected she was afraid that if she did, she would hear something she didn't want to.

And there was something about her voice, something off. She had that natural rasp, the one that got under Sam's skin and could persuade him to do almost anything. But tonight, tonight it had been more than that, she almost sounded hoarse and quiet, like she couldn't quite catch her breath. The knot that had formed in his stomach as he thought about it tightened. Something just wasn't right. Making a decisions, Sam grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

With a violent shove, Dustin hurled Andy onto the couch, and stood over top of her. She took in as many details as she could. Height, build, eye colour. Shocking blue, she mused, remembering seeing them in passing at the hospital that morning and admiring them. Now, the seemed almost luminescent in the energy behind them. Part of her doubted that she would ever get a chance to give a description of him, but the cop in her willed her to think as rationally as she could. She glanced past Dustin, to her bedroom. In the lockbox under her bed was the gun she kept at home. She wondered if she would be able to reach it before he caught up to her, then she remembered he had a gun as well. If she ran, she would never make it as far as her bed. She raised her eyes back to his, and suppressed a shiver at the way his hungry eyes roamed her body.

Dustin stared unabashed down at Andy, taking in the way her hair tumbled over her shoulders. He reached out, sighing as Andy recoiled from him, and grabbed a fistful of her hair. Yanking her forwards, he pulled her face forward and held it inches from his.

"When I saw you today, I knew I had to have you." His face was set in a serene smile, but his eyes shone with something that suggested violence. One of his fingers caressed Andy's jaw, and she resisted the urge to reach out and slap it away. She knew better than to make him angry.

"What do you want?" She was afraid she knew the answer, but she needed to stall him, needed to figure out how to get away from him long enough to make it to her gun. The hand in her hair trailed down towards her waist, and settled in the small of her back. Ever so gently, Dustin pulled her towards him. His breath was warm in her face, and Andy felt the fear she had been pushing away seep to the surface. Her heart stuttered in her chest, the answer to her question clear in his face. He wasn't just going to kill her, what he had in mind was much worse. Unable to move at all, Andy just watched his face get closer and closer, until he crushed his lips to hers. The moment she felt his mouth on hers, Andy snapped out of the paralysis that had been pinning her to the couch.

"Don't." She shoved at Dustin, not caring that he had a gun. She wasn't going to be a victim, like all those girls in every case she ever worked. She couldn't be helpless and just sit there, watching herself be stripped of her dignity, and her clothes. She would rather die. "I'm not going to beg you."

Dustin sat back in surprise, and an ugly sneer crept over his face as he recovered.

"Oh, really?" He grabbed another fistful of her hair, and pressed his gun against her temple. "Because I think you are." Andy heard, and felt, the blow to her head, and for a moment she wondered if he had actually shot her. As the spots in front of her eyes disappeared, she realized he had pistol whipped her. Her mouth filled with blood, and she spat it onto her brand new white carpet. For some reason, as she stared at the red stain, it filled her with anger. "Beg, bitch."

Whipping around before Dustin could see it coming, Andy smacked the gun out of his hand, and it clattered to the floor outside her bedroom door. If she could just get to it, she didn't need to worry about retrieving her own. As she tried, unsteadily, to push herself to her feet, she felt another blow, this time to her lower back. Pain seared through her back, and she collapsed back to the floor. She could hear Dustin coming up behind her, and felt a vice-like grip clamp around her ankle. With surprising strength, he jerked her backwards, and she found herself underneath him. She rammed her knee into his stomach, and he let out a moan but didn't break his grip on her. All pretence of caring gone, he ripped at her shirt, and tore away what little fabric had been covering her chest. He managed an appreciative leer at the black lace he discovered. Squirming, trying to free herself, Andy had no hands to cover herself. At this point, modesty was the least of her concerns. Trying to knock him off of her, she smashed an elbow into the hand he was using to support himself, and he lost his balance.

Although Andy succeeded in breaking his grip on her, Dustin collapsed on top of her, and she found herself even more immobilised than before. His weight pinned her to the floor, and she could feel his erection pressing into her bare stomach. She felt pressure on the skin just under her belly button, and realized Dustin was unbuttoning her jeans. She growled in frustration, and rotated her shoulders, but it did nothing. Disgusted, Andy wrenched her hands out from under him with all her strength, shoved hard at him, and finally managed to roll him off her. Grunting, Dustin snaked out an arm and backhanded Andy across the face. The resounding crack startled her, and that combined with the blinding pain knocked her backwards into her coffee table. It collapsed under her weight, and she she lay, stunned, in the rubble. Dustin staggered to his feet and lumbered towards her. Certain she had broken at least a few ribs, Andy let out a whimper of pain as she tried to stand up. Failing, she lay back in the debris of her ruined coffee table, and stared at the hulking figure barreling towards her. She closed her eyes, unable to move under the crippling weight of her injuries. Waiting for the inevitable assault, time seemed to stop. She felt hands on her, they started roughly tugging at her jeans, almost causing her to black out with pain. She felt a rush of cold air, and knew what was coming next. As the hand shoved violently in between her and her underwear, she prayed that she would black out. Suddenly, it was gone, and she thought she had gotten her wish until she heard a crash. She struggled to open her eyes and the scene she took in made her wonder if she was hallucinating.

Sam stood in front of her, gun pointed at Dustin, who was glowering at him from the floor. The room swam a little, and Andy couldn't suppress a moan. She felt like there was a massive weight on her chest, and she struggled to get a breath. As Andy tried to maintain her shallow breathing, Sam gestured at Dustin with his gun.

"I want you to get up, slowly. If you try anything, I will shoot you. Trust me, I want to." Sam didn't take his eyes off Dustin as he slowly rose to his feet. Carefully, Sam approached him, and yanked his arms behind his back, cuffing him. He shoved Dustin forwards, and walked him to the door. Stopping just inside, Sam glanced at Andy. He could barely recognize her, she was bruised and bloody, sprawled in a pile of debris. Just then, Oliver came rushing through the door, almost bumping right into Sam in his rush.

"I just got your message brother, I came as soon as I…" He trailed off as he caught sight of what was left of Andy. "Jesus." He looked back at Sam, and almost recoiled at the rage burning in his eyes. "Do you want me to take him in for you, so you can stay with McNally?" He asked, hoping Sam would agree.

"Yeah. But I need a minute first. Stay with her, I already called the ambulance. I'll be right back." With a last glance at Andy, he pushed Dustin outside. Oliver rushed to Andy's side, and felt for a pulse. With little relief, he found one, but it was weak. As he leaned over her, he heard a crackling noise.

"Shit." He turned to shout at Sam that she had a punctured lung, but was cut off before he could open his mouth by a howl from the front yard. It wasn't Sam's. "Shit." He repeated. He could hear very well what was taking place in the front yard, and knew very well he should be stopping it, but he couldn't. He understood, remembered holding a gun to the punk that had been messing with his daughter. Finally, a car door slammed, and Oliver heard Sam's footsteps coming up the front steps. As Sam appeared in the door, Oliver stood, and averted his eyes from the blood on Sam's knuckles. "She has a punctured lung. That ambulance better be close." He shook his head and went out to the cruiser to keep an eye on Dustin. He didn't want to leave before he knew Andy was on her way to the hospital.

Inside, Sam crouched down beside Andy, fighting the bile that rose in his throat. He reached out the touch her, but couldn't see a piece of her that wasn't bruised or bleeding. He couldn't even feel the scrapes and bruises on his own hands over the pain in his chest as he looked at her.

"Andy," He murmured, noting the blue tinge to her lips. Oliver was right. To his surprise, her eyes fluttered open, and though they were unfocused, they took in his face with scrutiny, and to his confusion, what looked like fear. They seemed to look right past him.

"Sam." It was so quiet he almost missed it, but Andy sighed his name on a shallow breath. It was breaking his heart seeing her like this. He wanted to get up and march to car and wring Dustin's neck with his own hands. But Andy wouldn't want it, he knew that.

As his face swam before her eyes, Andy opened her mouth to say something, anything. She just wanted to thank him, she wanted to tell him she loved him. But nothing came out. Instead it fell open in horror, as she spotted the bloody figure looming behind him. She concentrated, and managed just to whisper his name in warning before Dustin was upon them. Sam swung backwards as Dustin grabbed his neck and pulled. Straightening up, Sam raised his head just in time to hear the shot ring out, and feel the impact of it in his chest. He flew backwards into the wall, and slumped onto the floor.

Andy tried to scream, but she couldn't manage to get it out. She took in his body, sprawled across her hallway, unmoving. Something clicked in her brain. A switch, some last thing that was holding onto the remaining shreds of her sanity, flipped. As every nerve in her body protested, she somehow found herself standing. As she stumbled forwards, she heard another shot ring out. Tears running so thickly down her face that she could barely see, Andy drove the broken leg of her coffee table into Dustins stomach with all her remaining strength. He stared at her, almost in betrayal, as he fell to his knees, and onto the floor. Andy kicked the gun away from him, then collapsed as she tried to make her way towards Sam. As she lay on the floor, she realized the pool of blood beside her wasn't Sam's, it was hers. In fact, as she looked at him, she realized he wasn't bleeding at all. That was when she saw the tell tale line of his bulletproof vest beneath his shirt. She let out half a sob of relief, which turned into a scream of excruciation as she looked down to see the hole in her gut, almost in the exact same spot as where she had stabbed Dustin. She had been shot, she realized, that second bullet had found its mark. As she lay her head on the ground next to Sam, and felt the world fade away as she watched the rise and fall of his chest, she didn't regret any of it.

Sam came to just as Andy lot consciousness. His first impression was just of the pain, both in his head and his chest where the bullet had struck his vest. His second was of panic, and he looked wildly around for Dustin, spotting him lying bleeding out on the floor with a long piece of wood protruding from his stomach. Then he thought of Andy. He sat up so quickly the room spun, but he couldn't see her anywhere. As he placed his hand behind him to push himself up, it slipped on something wet. Turning around, he froze in horror. Andy lay on her side, blood pooled around her, still oozing from the bullet wound in her abdomen. Her eyes were shut, the tears not yet dry on her cheeks. Breaking out of his horror, Sam reached forward to check her pulse. He dropped to his knees and pressed his ear to her chest. Still nothing. Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he placed the metal plated back of it directly in front of her mouth, waiting, hoping for it to fog. But there was no breath, no fog. Sam stared, paralyzed, at Andy's unmoving form. It seemed like years passed between that moment and when the paramedics burst through the door. He fell back as they surrounded her, blocking her from view. He felt nothing as he watched them work. He couldn't connect the body he had seen lying on the ground to Andy. It hadn't looked like her, even though he knew it was, it was like looking at somebody else. Just then he was pulled out of his thoughts by the most insignificant of noises: a cough. But he heard it, and he knew it was her, even though it was impossible. He launched himself forward into the sea of paramedics, and found himself looking into his favorite pair of brown eyes for the shortest of moments before they closed again.

"Impossible." He muttered, glancing over at the paramedic nearest him. "I checked." The paramedic nodded in understanding, then put a hand on his shoulder.

"It was close," The paramedic, a short asian woman, gave him a smile. "But she's a fighter." As Sam walked with Andy he marvelled at the truth to those words. He hadn't seen it with his own eyes, any of it, but he knew Andy had fought for his life even when she couldn't get the strength to save herself. he climbed into the back of the ambulance, grabbing Andy's hand ever so gently. He didn't let go of it as the ambulance doors swung shut, and the sobs finally escaped from his chest.


	8. Waiting

*****AUTHOR'S NOTE*****

Thank you so much for the positive reviews, I'm really glad you guys are enjoying the updates. Sorry that this chapter is a little shorter, I've been pretty busy with school work, but I'm trying to keep this updated. Also, to the user who requested that I update them on the new chapter, I can't update you as a guest, so if you want to log in and PM me, I can send you updates on the story.

*****AUTHOR's NOTE*****

Sirens woke Andy from the blackness that had swallowed her. As she became aware of the crushing pain that seemed to emanate from every inch of her body, she slipped back into unconsciousness. Tortuously, she woke again a few minutes later, and again as she was rolled through the hallways of the hospital, fluorescent lighting burning orange against the eyelids she couldn't quite managed to open. She wasn't aware of Sam's tear stained face, so intensely watching hers. She couldn't see the ambulance that had pulled in behind her own unload the balding, middle aged man that had once been her training officer, and had always been her mentor. She was oblivious to the bloody gash on his head, and the fact that his breathing stopped just as his gurney wheeled by hers as he took in her condition. All she knew was pain. She struggled to fill her chest with air, each breath shorter than the last. As she fought to stay awake, she became aware of a pressure, something that was different. Something that was warm. It wasn't that the pain had lessened, more that she had developed a threshold for it. But she recognized the feeling of a hand grasping hers. She flexed her fingers minutely, trying to squeeze the hand that held hers, trying to tell them that she was still fighting, but even that small exertion pushed her over the edge, back into the abyss.

Sam paced agitatedly around the waiting room, sitting for a moment before springing to his feet every time anyone resembling hospital staff passed by. Rubbing his face distractedly, Sam turned and leaned against the wall, almost jumping out of his skin at the tap on his shoulder.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you…. Sam?" He turned around to find himself looking into a very familiar blonde face.

"Monica?" Sam blinked, his sluggish brain finally forcing words from his mouth. She looked good, but all he could see was the look on her face. It was a genuine smile, the one she wore only when she could deliver good news. He recognized it from their time together, and breathed a sigh of relief. "She's okay?"

Confusion flickered on Monica's face, and Sam's stomach filled with dread as she shook her head.

"I came to tell you that your friend, Oliver, he's been all stitched up and cleared for visitors. He's awake but he's going to have to stay here, for observation, for a day or two." She reached out to touch Sam's arm, but he pulled away, not wanting to be comforted. He felt the relief swell briefly in his chest, then it was replaced by fear as he glanced down the hall where they had wheeled Andy nearly 2 hours before.

"Monica, what about Andy?" He didn't know how to wait anymore. He could feel this pressure in his head, intensifying with every minute that went on. He wanted to see Andy, to watch her breathing, just to have her in front of him to see that she was still there. He thought if he had to go much longer not knowing what was happening to her that he might completely lose his mind. He felt his fists clench, and looked down in surprise at the flash of pain. He took in the sight of his bruised hands, covered in a mixture of his own blood and Andy's with little interest. Monica, however, stepped forwards to grab one and pull it closer for inspection. She stared down at it, and Sam felt a surge of impatience. "Monica! Just-just tell me something. Anything." He snatched his hand back, as he fought the wave of despair that had been lying just under the surface since he had arrived at Andy's.

Monica studied his face for what seemed like years, then pulled Sam around the corner, into a private hallway. She glanced over her shoulder, before turning back to face him.

"You didn't hear this from me, but there is a female gunshot patient, mid twenties, just down that hallway-no don't even try it, you'll just get kicked out." She reached out to grab him as he swivelled his head in the direction she pointed, knowing what he was thinking. "I didn't get a name, but I'm pretty sure it's her. If it was, she wasn't in good shape, Sam." Sam slumped against the wall as she spoke, the hope that he had been clinging to wavered.

"I need to see her." Monica shook her head, holding Sam back as he tried once again to push past her down the hallway.

"Listen to me. Andy is going to be in surgery for a while. There is nothing you can do for her right now, you would just be in the way. You should go see Oliver, he was asking for you. I promise, I'll keep an eye on Andy's status and I'll come find you as soon as there is anything to tell." She gave him a look, and as much as Sam wanted to fight his way towards the operating room, he nodded. She was right. He held out his arm, gesturing that he would follow her to Oliver's room, then fell defeatedly into step behind her.

Oliver was gazing spacily up at the ceiling when Sam walked in. His head was pleasantly fuzzy from the painkillers he'd been given, but one look at his friend told him exactly what he had been afraid to ask the nurse.

"Hey, brother." He greeted Sam softly, wincing slightly at the volume of his own voice. Sam grinned, though it froze on his face as the guilt began to creep in. It was because of him that Oliver had been there in the first place. He'd seen Dustin at the hospital, he should have known that there was something off about the amount of attention he'd paid to Andy. He sank into the chair beside Oliver's bed, and leaned forward.

"I guess it's a good thing you have such a hard head. How are you feeling ?" Sam folded his hands in his lap, fighting the urge to fidget with the pocket watch he still carried with him.

"Hey, none of that Sammy." Oliver's tone was stern, and Sam looked at him warily, wondering exactly how many painkillers he had been given. "I know you. I can see all that guilt and angst you're bottling up in there. It wasn't your fault, man." He shook his head wearily.

Sam's hand slipped around the watch in his pocket, the cold metal a reminder of the friend he had already lost. The guilt from that day still lingered, mixed with fresh guilt from this night. He gave Oliver a tense smile, and got to his feet.

"I'm glad you're okay, man. I, uh, I'm gonna take off before Celery gets here. She's probably gonna be pretty pissed at me for calling you." Oliver let out a weak chuckle and Sam turned to leave, barely able to suppress the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.

"McNally wouldn't have wanted you to do this to yourself." Oliver's words hit him in the back like jagged little knives, and Sam spun furiously around.

"Don't." His eyes flashed dangerously.

"Sam-"

" I saw him, Oliver, at the hospital, earlier when I came to get my concussion checked out. I should have known, he was paying way too much attention to her." Sam spat the words, beginning to pace angrily beside Oliver's bed. Oliver rolled his eyes.

"McNally's always attracted attention, she's not exactly hard on the eyes." Sam glared at Oliver, not ceasing his circuit around the room.

"This was different. She shouldn't even have been there! He would never have even met her if she hadn't taken me to the hospital." The weight of that, the idea that it was because of her compassion for him that she had been put in danger, it settled on Sam's chest, suffocating him. "You want to know how I thanked her? I accused her of sleeping with Collins. I practically called her a whore." Sighing with frustration, Oliver struggled to sit up, giving up when the room started to spin.

"Sam, you can't blame yourself for the actions of a psychopath. You don't even know for a fact that the hospital was the first place that kid saw McNally. Maybe he met her somewhere else." Sam couldn't contain the guilt that was eating away at his stomach anymore, the emotion rose like bile in his throat and he finally exploded.

"I WASN'T THERE FOR HER! I WAS NEVER THERE FOR HER!" He shouted, his voice echoing in the tiny room. Now that he had started getting it off his chest, he found he couldn't stop. "She needed me, and I was lying there, right beside her, as she was bleeding out! She got shot, because I got stupid and let my guard down." He panted to catch his breath, clutching the rail on Oliver's bed as the room swam from a mix of his latest knock to the head and his earlier concussion. His friend had been quiet as he ranted on, but Sam could see the pity in his eyes. He felt caged, his emotions overpowering. He staggered towards the door, he needed to get out, he needed to get away. His legs, as he attempted to flee the room and all his despair, buckled, and he found himself on the ground. Leaning back, he rested his head against the foot of the bed.

"You alright, brother?" Oliver's voice called out, but Sam barely heard it. He had finally let his worst fear creep into his consciousness, the one that arrested his chest, caused his entire body to go numb. The question thrashed around in his brain, ringing in his ears as though someone was shouting it, over and over and over again. Thinking about it, it was as though all the warmth in his body leached away, and Sam shivered on the linoleum.

"Oliver," he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper, "What if she doesn't make it?" The thought brought such anxiety to him that he blacked out before Oliver even had time to reply. Seconds later, Monica came rushing into the room, surprised to find Sam unconscious, and wondering whether or not she should be relieved that her news would have to wait.


	9. Waking Up

**Author's Note**

**Sorry for the late posting, I've gotten pretty busy with school, and I'm falling a bit behind. I will keep trying to post as frequently as I can, and please continue to review. Thank you so much for everyone who took the time to review, I really love reading them. I hope you guys enjoy! **

**P.S. This is a McSwarek story, even though there are hints of McCollins. Be warned!**

* * *

Buzzing. And beeping. It was all Andy registered as she first woke up, too disoriented to even open her eyes. Surely she couldn't be dead, this was too irritating to be heaven. She supposed she could be in hell, but Andy wasn't particularly religious. It had been too hard, when her mom left and her dad started drinking, to hold on to her faith. Flexing her fingers, she let out a cry of pain. Her eyes flew open in surprise, and she found herself blinded by the bright fluorescent lights. That would explain the buzzing. And the beeping, Andy noted, as she pieced together the rough sheets and the sterile white of the walls. She was in the hospital. She struggled to remember what had happened. The last thing she remembered was having a drink with Nick at the Penny. She had been pretty drunk, had something happened? A knot of fear formed in her stomach as a thought occurred to her. Had she been driving? She forced herself to pry her eyes back open.

Slowly taking in her surroundings, Andy sighed at the sleeping figure hunched over a chair in the corner of her room. "Nick," she murmured, surprised at the amount of pain caused by her speech. He roused slowly, springing to his feet when he realized she was awake.

"Andy. How are you feeling?" His hand brushed her cheek gently, he was afraid to hurt her. She couldn't see how she looked, but she was guessing from the look on his face that it wasn't good. She shrugged, then winced. Andy wondered if there was anything she could do that wouldn't hurt.

"I feel….. like crap." She gave him a weak smile, and noticed the red rimming his eyes. Her heart gave a little twinge. "Nick, what happened?" She wasn't sure she was ready for the answer, but the uncertainty of whether anyone else had been hurt was starting to accumulate in her chest. Nick's face fell a little, and Andy knew that whatever had happened, he wasn't happy to tell her. The thudding in her chest quickened. "Was anyone else hurt?"

Nick grabbed her hand as carefully as he could, and searched her face, wondering if she was awake enough to deal with what happened. He had hoped he wouldn't have to tell her, half hoped that she would remember. Maybe it was better this way though, better to not have first hand memories of something terrible. He sighed. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Andy closed her eyes, trying to recall the events of the night before. The kiss flashed through her mind, and she felt her lips twitch, but then something darker seeped into her head. It was like she could feel her instincts kicking in, telling her not to push any further, but then the face flashed before her eyes, and she felt a jolt of panic. Dustin. The face, and the name, came together, but they meant nothing to Andy. All she knew was that his face caused her breathing to hitch and her heart to pound in her chest. She rubbed absently at it, trying to combat the anxiety, and looked down to discover five long red scratches across her breast. Fear turned to dread as she noted the soreness on her thighs, as though they were bruised. "No." She raised her eyes to stare imploringly at Nick, begging him to deny what she was terrified had happened to her.

"Wait, Andy what are you remembering?" He felt her fingers tighten around his, and her heart race. Her eyes travelled downwards and took in the marks on her chest, and then further south towards her legs. He wondered what she was thinking until she looked up at him, and he could see it in her eyes. "No, that…" He trailed off wondering how to deny it, wondering how much she needed to know. He wanted to set her at ease, but there were few details to the story that would accomplish that. He rubbed his thumb over the smooth skin on the back of her hand. "What you're thinking, it didn't happen. You're okay." He didn't know if she was, but he knew that she would be. Andy was one of the toughest people he had ever met. It had surprised him to hear, when he was undercover with her, how much she could handle. She was amazingly resilient, after her mother left, after everything with Tommy, and Luke and Swarek. It was just one of the things he admired about her. And though seeing her like this broke his heart, and he almost wished that creep was alive so Nick could kill him himself, he knew she would get past this, too.

Andy was quiet for a moment, she knew Nick was telling the truth, but she also knew that there was something else. Obviously, from the state of her chest and her legs, something had happened to her. He was hesitant to tell her exactly what, she understood he didn't want to hurt her, but she needed to know. "So, what did happen?" She felt like something was missing, like there was some burning question, something she needed to ask, though nothing came to mind. But it was there.

"You cabbed home from the Penny, do you remember that?" Nick watched her thinking, he could practically see the cogs turning in her mind as she struggled to put the pieces together.

"The cab driver, he waited until I found my keys. He didn't charge me for the fare." Nick nodded as Andy spoke, he didn't know what had happened in the cab, but she was remembering, and that was good. "I had my keys, and I…" She stopped, suddenly, and her hand flew to her throat. "There was a knife to my throat." And a voice, she remembered. No, two voices. But where was the other one coming from? "My phone… I was calling someone. I couldn't make out the numbers so I hit redial. I called Sam." The final chinks in the armour that her mind had built around that night failed, and the entire scene crashed into her, flooding her senses. She could feel Dustin's hands, everywhere touching her. She could smell the blood, taste it as it filled her mouth. See Sam lying next to her on the ground. Horrified, she tugged on Nick's arm, pulling him closer. "Where's Sam? What happened to him, and what happened to Oliver?" A new fear, as she remembered Oliver's face hovering above hers settled into her stomach. When Dustin had escaped, what had he done to Oliver?

"Oliver's fine. He got banged up a little and needed some stitches but you know him, he's hard headed. And Sam…" Andy's heart constricted painfully as Nick paused. "Sam's fine, he collapsed after you two got to the hospital, but he's fine. He's in way better shape than you." He gave Andy a teasing smile. Andy returned it, but the worry in her stomach didn't dissipate completely. If Sam was fine, why hadn't he been here when she woke up? Andy bit her lip, as she considered that Sam probably was with Marlo. He wasn't Andy's anymore, and he had moved on. She knew she needed to accept it. He hadn't wanted to see her. Suddenly, Andy wondered if he blamed her for getting him into this mess, and putting Oliver in danger. Though it didn't seem like Sam, she remembered the way he had acted after Jerry died, and what he had said to her. He couldn't be with her and be a cop. She was always getting him into danger, and she knew it. Fighting the overwhelming urge to curl up and cry, as the toll of remembering washed through her body, Andy let go of Nick's hand.

"Thanks… for being here." She meant it. Having Nick there when she opened her eyes had reassured her more than she had realized. He gave her a questioning look.

"I will always be here for you. You should rest. I'll be here when you wake up." He turned to settle back into the chair and Andy frowned.

"Nick, go home. I'll be fine. You look like you could use a nap, and a shower." She pretended to hold her nose, and he laughed. Nodding, he walked back towards her bed and gave her a light kiss on the forehead.

"I'll be back, I won't be gone long." He gave her a final smile, and disappeared out the door. With Nick gone, Andy felt claustrophobia setting in, and tugged at the sheets where the touched her bruises. They reminded her of Dustin's hands, and she itched to shower and wash the feeling away. Needing a distraction, anything, Andy pulled herself up. She was stiff, she felt like she'd been asleep for days, and realized she had no idea how long she had been unconscious. She glanced at the table beside her bed, and saw her cellphone lying on top of it. Knowing she probably wasn't supposed to be using it inside the hospital, she snuck a look at the door, but didn't see anyone. She pressed the home button, lighting up the screen, and the clock flashed as the display appeared. 9:55 at night. With a start, Andy realized it was Sunday, three days after the night at the Penny. She had been asleep for almost 72 hours. She shifted and threw her feet over the side of the bed, and tentatively put her weight on one foot. She hissed at the initial pain that shot through her leg, but the worst seemed to be over, and she managed tos stand without holding onto the railing on her bed. Feeling a tug at her wrist, Andy looked down and pulled the IV drip attaching her to the bag of saline out of her arm.

She had no idea where she was going, but Andy didn't care. She wondered if Oliver was still admitted. Looking uncertainly down at her attire of plaid pajama pants and a baggy grey v-neck t-shirt, Andy approached the woman working quietly behind the reception desk. "Hi, I'm looking for my colleague." She smiled winningly at the woman, hoping she could pass for a late night visitor, but she was forgetting about the bruises on her face. The small blonde looked up at Andy, and a shadow flickered over her face as she took in Andy's injuries. "Nice try honey, but you look like you should be in bed." She stood up to escort Andy back to her room. Andy's curiosity about the state of her face got the better of her, and she shook her head.

"Look, I'm a cop. I just wanted to make sure my colleagues were alright. Can you do me a favour and just tell me what rooms they're in?" She leaned towards the nurse, noting her nametag. "Please, Jamie?" The girl sighed, and sat back down.

"Who are you looking for?" Her eyes scanned the hallway, as though making sure no one would see her letting Andy wander around. Andy grinned.

"Oliver Shaw, and Sam Swarek." Jamie looked up in recognition of the name, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Are you Andy?" Taken aback, Andy nodded. The nurse stared at her for a moment, as though seeing her for the first time. "Monica was talking about you, she kept coming around, asking for your status." Frowning, Andy tapped her fingers impatiently on the desk.

"Monica?" Andy didn't know why she would have been keeping tabs on her, but her impatience beat out her curiosity. "Sorry but I just really want to find my friends, do you know where they are?" Jamie's head swivelled back towards her computer, and she typed away for a moment before looking back up at Andy.

"Oliver Shaw, room 314, that's on the second floor. We don't have a Sam Swarek checked in." Jamie looked up at her curiously, as if there was something she wanted to ask, but Andy smiled and thanked her, then hurried towards the elevator.

By the time the elevator made it to the second floor, Andy's room was on the 5th, her legs were shaking with the exertion. After three days of lying in bed, not to mention the bruises and minor fractures on her legs, her body was not ready to be walking around. She limped out of the elevator, and towards the hallway she knew Oliver was in. With all the time she had spent in this hospital because of her job, Andy was very familiar with it. Turning into Oliver's room, Andy collapsed on the floor before she had a chance to look at him. "Ugh." She groaned as she lay on the cold tile, more embarrassed than hurt.

"McNally?" Oliver's voice was deep with concern, and Andy struggled towards the chair beside his bed, barely managing to pull herself into it. "What the hell are you doing wandering around? Are you okay?"She looked up into his face and let out a little sob of relief, throwing herself at him. Forgetting that they both had serious injuries, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. They both let out a yelp of pain, and she released him and sat back. It wasn't until she had settled back into the chair and the tears had cleared from her eyes that she noticed the man sitting in the other chair, staring at her.

"Sam?"


	10. Finding It

Sam stared at the battered version of his ex-girlfriend sitting across from him. He had almost leaped to help her when she fell, but he had been so surprised that she had gotten herself up before he made it to his feet. He watched her throw herself at Oliver in silence, not wanting to disrupt the moment. Now she was looking across the bed at him, something like discomfort in her eyes. It bothered Sam.

"How's it going McNally?" He winced internally at the casual tone as it came out, but it was too late to take it back. He wanted to grab her and check every inch of her body for injuries, never let her go. But it wasn't his place.

Andy felt her heart flutter unpleasantly in her chest. She hadn't been expecting to see Sam here. If she was being honest, after waking up and not finding him in her room, she had assumed he was busy enough not to be there. But here he was, sitting across from her in Oliver's room, casually greeting her like nothing had happened. It hurt. "Oh, you know," she waved a hand airily, wincing at the soreness in her arm. "I'm fine." She thought she saw Sam's eyes flash at that, but it was gone so quickly she decided she must have imagined it. Something in Andy's stomach seemed to deflate as she observed him, his casual smile denting her childish hope he was worried about her.

Of course she would say she was fine after nearly being raped and beaten to death. It was so Andy that Sam could have laughed, if it didn't piss him off so much. There was something about the way that she waved her hand so carelessly in the air that made Sam want to grab her and shake her. Didn't she realize how close she had come? Didn't she care about herself at all? It was one of the things Sam had struggled with when they were together. Andy's selflessness mixed with her compassion had put her in more dangerous situations than he had cared for. She wasn't stupid she was just… amazing. The word popped into his head unexpectedly as Sam watched her turn her attention to Oliver, and place her bruised hand on his cheek. She was so gentle, like she was afraid she was going to hurt him. Oliver smiled up at her, and made some stupid comment that Sam was too distracted to catch. For some reason sitting there, seeing McNally broken like this, it had been bearable until now. Until she reminded Sam exactly who she was and why he had fallen in love with her. And now it was breaking his heart. He turned away, and tried to collect himself as memories of the past few months without Andy crept into his mind. It had been easier to be angry at her when she was gone.

Andy bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder at Sam. Now that she was satisfied that Oliver was alright, and just as sarcastic as ever, she couldn't shake the desire to check on Sam. Even though he didn't seem to be worried about her at all, Andy suspected there was more going on under his cool exterior. She knew he had moved on, but he had always been overprotective of her, and she figured he still cared about her. She sat on her hands to keep from reaching out and grabbing Sam's face, pulling it closer so she could assure herself that he was alright. Once again, she let out a yelp of pain due to the injuries she kept forgetting. It would take a while for her to get used to being overly careful, she had always been on the clumsy side. Rubbing her wrist gingerly where the throbbing was the worst, she sighed. She doubted either Sam or Oliver wanted to talk about what had happened, but there were too many holes in her memory of the story. Andy was beginning to realize that she had missed a lot that night, and after everything, after killing someone, she wanted all the pieces. She cleared her throat, suddenly nervous. "I.." Sam and Oliver looked at her expectantly. She struggled for the right words.

"Spit it out McNally." Oliver grinned at her, then faltered at the look on her face, for once losing his irrepressible optimism. "Hey, what is it?" He reached out and placed his hand on hers, wishing his buddy would man up and do it, but knowing he wasn't there yet. Sam only regarded them silently, and it irked Oliver. He knew things were complicated between his friend and his former rookie, but he also knew that they weren't nearly as happy separate as they had been together. Andy was good for Sam in a way Oliver had never even realized Sam needed. She pushed without being pushy. Actually, she could be extremely pushy, but only when Sam needed it. Oliver had never known Sam to share as much of himself with anyone as he had with Andy. Looking over at her, as she chewed on her bottom lip, he doubted she even realized how open Sam had been with her. They were both idiots. Oliver had secretly been hoping that McNally's near death experience would have been enough to push both of them to make things right, but it didn't seem to be going that way. He bit back a sigh of frustration and patted Andy gently on the hand to recapture her attention. He had a feeling that whatever Andy was thinking, it was something more serious than her love life with Sam.

Andy let out an irritated huff, then looked directly up at Sam. "I need you to tell me what happened." He raised an eyebrow in surprise, and peered at her thoughtfully before shaking his head.

"Can't do it McNally. You know we need to get someone to take your statement first. Someone who wasn't there when it happened," he added, when she had looked inquisitively up at him.

Thrown, Andy opened her mouth, then closed it again. The last person she was expecting to clam up on her because of the rules was Sam. He had never followed the rules unless it suited him, and though he had never been a reckless cop, excluding their little tryst when he was undercover, procedure hadn't been an issue. The irritation swept through her, flushing her cheeks before she even realized she was angry. "Fine," she muttered, struggling to get back to her feet. She panted with exertion as she pushed at the bed, trying to put her weight on her feet, but her body gave out. She landed with a soft thud back in the chair, turning even more red with effort and embarrassment. She crossed her arms over her chest and deliberately turned away from Sam, facing Oliver. "Oliver," she murmured softly, as though remembering something, "how did he get away from you?" She absentmindedly reached out to touch the massive bruise on his head, and he let out a humorless laugh.

"I had to load him into the squad properly after Sammy was done with him. I took him out to pat him down, he pretended to trip, and then when I leaned down to grab him, he kicked me. It's pretty much lights out after that." The corners of Andy's mouth had turned down as Oliver was talking, and Sam felt a familiar pang in his chest. That face was the one she used to wear when he got hurt on the job, nothing serious, just a bruise or some stitches. It was like it caused her physical pain to see other people hurting, and he hated it. He would have hidden the injuries from her if he thought she wouldn't find out, but he knew he couldn't get away with it. As he thought it, he reached up to ran his hand through his hair, and the massive gash on his forearm caught Andy's eye.

"What's that?" Her voice was still angry, though whether that anger was still directed at him, Sam wasn't sure. He glanced down at the laceration running the length of his forearm, remembering the unpleasantries that went along with the twenty or so stitches he had received.

"Oh, uh, just a scratch." Sam shrugged, and Andy felt a flash of irritation, the same kind she used to feel when he would play down his injuries when they were together. He was such a martyr she used to have to use physical force to get him to show her where he had been hurt. Despite herself, Andy leaned over the bed and held out her hand expectantly. He looked at her in surprise, but got up, and walked around the bed to hold his arm out to her. She knew he was rolling his eyes, but she didn't care. Her gaze was focused on the number of stitches running up his arm, she could tell by the bruising around the cut that it was deep. Stitches were nothing new to either of them, but she couldn't help but wince at the number of them. "Seriously, Andy, it's fine. just a scratch." His words brought back deja vu of the morning of the attack, and he darted a glance at her to see if she noticed. He hadn't noticed from across the room, but up close he almost recoiled at the sadness in her eyes. It was as if someone had died. Which, he realized with a start, they had. He kicked himself for being so stupid, he had been so focused on her recovery physically, that he had barely thought about how she would feel about killing someone. It wasn't the cold execution of a service pistol either, she had stabbed him through the stomach with the leg of her table, in her home. It was personal. He squinted at her, trying to gain some clue to what she was thinking, but aside from her eyes her face was impassive.

"That looks sore," she murmured, unconsciously running her fingers in patterns along his arm, an old habit. He let out a hollow laugh, and she glanced up at him curiously.

"Oh yeah, real sore. Three broken ribs, and head to toe deep tissue bruising is nothing compared to some stitches." He jerked his arm out of her hand, ignoring the rush of cold air where her fingers had been. He had missed her touch. He had been afraid he would never feel it again. And yet, here he was, she was alive, broken but alive, and he was furious with her. And himself. He supposed it wasn't fair, but he couldn't stand to have her worrying about some stupid cut on his arm while she was sitting there looking like she was. He felt the irrational anger bubbling up and out of his mouth before he could stop it. "Jesus Andy, have you even seen yourself?" He gestured vaguely at her face before swiveling on his foot and pacing back towards the wall.

Andy blinked at the hostility behind his words, but recovered quickly. "Actually, no." She said quietly, her emotions tangling up messily inside her stomach. She knew he was doing this because he was worried, and she was surprised at how reassuring she found it. Still, the irritation from his refusal to tell her about the attack, and his ongoing martyrdom rose to the surface. "I woke up and came running to find Oliver, and then I was hoping one of you would tell me what happened the night I killed someone." She glanced apologetically at Oliver, who waved a hand in the air, then stood and rounded on Sam. "But no, apparently you're Mr. By-the-book now. And you know what? I was worried about you. I am worried about you. God why do you always have to be such a martyr?" She stalked towards him, then jabbed him in the chest. "You don't care, you don't want to come see me, that's fine. But I wanted to know if you were hurt, you know, since the last time I saw you was when you were shot and knocked unconscious." She had stepped closer as she talked, and they were now standing toe to toe. She stared up at him, refusing to back away.

Sam frowned down at Andy as she stared daggers up at him. She was close enough for him to count the freckles on her face, not that he didn't have them memorized. She thought he didn't care about her. She thought he hadn't wanted to be there when she woke up. She didn't realize that he hadn't left the hospital except to change when he had been discharged, and then had come right back. She didn't know that he had waited by her bed for two days hoping she would wake up, wishing he could somehow climb into her mind and see what she was seeing. She couldn't realize that it was killing him that the one time he had left her bed, for half an hour, was the exact time she had woken up. He knew he had been acting cold when she walked in to Oliver's room, but the last thing he had expected was for her to come waltzing through that door when he had seen her unconscious an hour before. He just hadn't had time to react. It might not be fair, considering he was with Marlo and she seemed to be with Collins, but he didn't want her to think he didn't care about her. "I did come to see you. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up."

He meant it. Andy could practically feel the sincerity rolling of him, and she let her mouth drop open in surprise. As the anger was replaced with something resembling relief, she felt a shiver run down her spine. As much as she had hoped he felt some small desire to be with her when she woke up, to check on her and make sure she was alright, the confirmation seemed to take a weight off her shoulders. She gazed up at him, and realized how close they were standing. His face was barely inches away.

Sam was noticing the same thing, distracted by the bruises on her face, the blue that seemed to cover more skin than not. He brushed his thumb gently against her jaw, turning her face so that he could see the bruising on her neck. It tore at him. If it was possible, she looked worse now than when he had seen her lying in the debris of her coffee table. The bruises had had time to bloom and spread, the swelling had gone down just enough to cast shadows over the few bits of her that remained unhurt. As he looked sadly down at her, he noticed her eyes drooping, and when he lowered his gaze, that her legs were shaking. Without further thought, he reached down, and gingerly lifter her into his arms.

"Sam," Andy protested, as he nodded at Oliver and carried her into the hallway. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing McNally? I'm taking you back to bed." He smiled at the little blonde nurse as he passed her, though something about the way she looked at Andy made him suspicious that she knew something he didn't. Monica had never come back to find him after he woke up in a hospital bed, but he had gotten the news from another nurse that Andy was stable and out of surgery.

"Put me down, I can walk." Andy pushed weakly at him, her shaking arms not helping her cause. "This is embarrassing." She let out a sigh and let her head fall back to rest against Sam's chest. The familiar smell of him, like fresh laundry and something deliciously male, had her feeling calmer than she had since she woke up. "Screw you." She muttered in a half-hearted attempt to keep up appearances.

Sam grinned down at her. "Well, I would McNally, but you don't really seem to be in the best shape for that kind of physical activity." She shoved at him again, even weaker than before, and he looked down to see her eyes closed. As he continued to walk, her breath evened out, and he knew she was asleep. Rounding the corner to her room, Sam marvelled at how far she had walked to get to Oliver's room. She must have been in pain the whole way there, and yet he knew she wouldn't have been able to rest until she had seen that he was okay. He lay her back in her bed, careful not to wake her, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. He lingered like that, for a moment, then leaned back and pulled her blankets over her. Walking over to the chair beside her bed, he settled in, and watched the rise and fall of her chest. This time, he promised himself, he would be there when she woke up.


	11. Numb

**Author's Note:**

Hey, so this ended up being a long chapter, hopefully it makes up for the slow updates. Please keep reviewing, they seriously make my day, and I like to know what you guys think about where this is heading. Hopefully you like it. This story has gotten a bit angsty, but I promise it will all be worth it in the end. Enjoy!

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Andy woke with a little sigh, her eyes fluttering open, then widening in surprise at the sight of Sam fast asleep beside her. His arms were crossed over his chest, his head lolling back onto the chair. She fought a smile. She hadn't been expecting him to be there. She recalled the argument they'd had earlier, and Sam's admission that he had wanted to be there when she woke up. And now he was. He looked exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes and the stubble along his jaw made her wonder if he had been home in the last 24 hours. She suddenly felt very guilty for accusing him of not caring about her enough to come see her. She leaned forward, barely wincing at the pain that she was starting to get used to. Brushing his face with her hand, she whispered his name. "Sam. Wake up." He grunted and shifted in the chair, but didn't open his eyes. Andy couldn't suppress a smile, there was always something about Sam when he slept, like the usual weight of the world on his shoulders was missing. He was lighter. Andy missed it every morning. Shaking her head, she cupped his cheek in her hand and leaned closer to his ear. "Sam." She murmured, a little louder this time. His eyes flew open, and he stared at Andy in surprise.

"Uh, hey." He didn't lean away from her, and she didn't move her hand from his face.

"Good morning." She smiled a little sadly, glad to have him there, but very aware of why she was in the hospital in the first place. She still saw Dustin's face when she closed her eyes sometimes, or, worse, the image of Sam lying lifeless on the floor. Trying to shake herself out of it, Andy glanced up at Sam and took in the picture before her. Sam was alive and well, surly as ever. She couldn't help herself and her thumb lightly traced the dark circles under his eyes, which drifted closed again. It was quiet, but comfortably so, and Andy was reminded of the way they used to lay in the mornings, in bed, sometimes for hours, quiet like this. Sam used to joke it was the only time that her mouth wasn't occupied that she was quiet. Andy blushed as the innocent memories took a turn towards the explicit, and when Sam opened his eyes he was greeted with her flushed cheeks. He raised his eyebrows.

"You okay there McNally?" He didn't mean it to come out quite as mocking as it had, and smirked when she flushed a shade deeper. "Good morning to you too." Andy dropped her hand, and he felt a small pang of regret. As he opened his mouth to apologize for not telling her what she asked for the night before , Collins came strolling through the door. Sam quickly shut his mouth and glanced between the two of them. Andy, whose cheeks had begun to return to a normal colour, flushed again, and Collins gave her a sheepish smile. There was definitely something going on between them. Sam cleared his throat, and Andy's head swivelled back around to face him. She was chewing on her bottom lip, something Sam had noticed she did when she was anxious about something. He wasn't sure if he would rather it was Collins making her anxious or himself, but the look she was giving him gave him the feeling that right now, three was a crowd. He stood up and leaned down to brush Andy's hair behind her ear and give her a searching glance, making sure she was alright for him to leave her. She gave an almost imperceptible nod, her eyes darting back towards Nick. Sam sighed. Part of him wanted to stay, stare at Collins and make him uncomfortable until he left and Sam could be alone with Andy. The other part of him wanted to get as far away from what was going on between Collins and Andy as he could. He opted for the latter, and turned towards the door. "Andy," He looked at her as he reached the doorway, and put his hand hesitantly on the handle. "If you need anything, call me." Andy nodded again, this time with a smile.

"Yeah, I will. Thanks for staying with me, Sam." She was about to tell him she would see him later, but he cut her off.

"I'm not leaving. I'm just going to run home and shower, grab some fresh clothes. Oliver's getting out later today and with, uh…" He trailed off as his eyes once again swept over the bruises and cuts covering every visible inch of her, and swallowed. "With everything else that's going on Frank gave me a few days off. I'll be back." Andy looked like she was going to open her mouth to protest, so Sam gave her a smile, and Collins a quick nod, and left before she could say anything. Once he was out of the room, he leaned against the wall to check his cell phone under the pretence of putting on his jacket. The few times Monica had caught him using his cell phone in the hospital, he had gotten a serious lecture. As he read through the texts he had gotten from Marlo asking how Oliver was doing, and a few from Sarah, he heard Collin's voice drifting out into the hall.

"So, about that kiss…" Sam immediately stiffened, he hadn't meant to eavesdrop. An internal battle warred between staying to hear what Andy had to say, and leaving before he heard anything else. As he heard a familiar playful laugh, and the sound of someone being smacked, he decided he needed to leave. He wasn't ready to hear, or see, Andy and Collins in action. With a black expression to suit his mood, he strode towards the exit, and didn't look back.

"Nick…" Andy had laughed nervously when he brought up the kiss, but now she felt her face falling into serious lines. She hadn't really spent much time thinking about what happened at the Penny, with everything else that was going on. She initially thought she had felt something, and had toyed with the idea of delving into something more than friends with Nick, but now she knew better. It had become clear where her heart was, and as painful as it was to admit, she was nowhere near over Sam. If she was being honest, she was no less in love with him than she had been six months earlier. Some things had happened between them, there was a lot of hurt and baggage now, but she wasn't ready to move on. Not only was she not ready for a rebound, but even if she had been, she cared about Nick too much to let him be that for her, he deserved so much better. She sighed, and he came to sit carefully on her bed beside her. He gently grabbed her hand and held it between his. Andy placed her free hand on his shoulder, and looked searchingly at his face. She could tell he wasn't on the same page as her, could see the hope in his eyes. As much as she wanted to avoid hurting him, she thought the best way to do that would be to let him down easy. "You've been such a good friend." His eyes narrowed slightly at that, but he didn't move his hands. "What happened at the Penny, you took me by surprise." Andy tried not to say it accusingly, just laying out the reason she had let it happen in the first place. At that, Nick withdrew his hand, understanding and disappointment showing all over his face. He dropped his eyes, and Andy had to cup her fingers under his chin to get him to look at her. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on with Sam and I, but, I know I can't give you what you deserve. I love him. And I care about you too much not to be honest with you." Nick seemed to watch her for a moment, then he let out a heavy breath.

"I should have known, I guess I just…. got caught up." He was getting a little lost in her eyes as he said it, and had to shake his head to bring himself back. He was disappointed, and he knew it would take him a while until he could honestly say Andy was just a friend to him, but he was determined to get there. As much as she needed him right now, he had always been surprised at just how many times he had leaned on Andy for support. He didn't want to lose that because of this. It would take time, but he was going to try. "I'm going to go." He stood up, offering her a sad but genuine smile to reassure her that he didn't hold it against her.

"Nick…" Andy sounded totally unsure of what to say, he could practically see the gears turning in her head, trying to find a way to make him alright. There was nothing she could say, though, and eventually she just fell silent and resumed chewing on her bottom lip. Nick shook his head. He was going to have to try to stop noticing how cute that was.

"I'll see you later, Andy." With that, he slipped from the room, leaving Andy in silence to contemplate her decision.

When Sam finally made it back to the hospital, he was running late and knew it was almost time for Oliver to check out. He jogged to the front desk to make sure all the paperwork was taken care of, then made a last second stop back out to his truck to grab a brown paper bag. When he tried, unsuccessfully, to slide into Oliver's room without him noticing, he was hit in the head by a tiny plush monkey wearing a bulletproof vest.

"You're late!" Oliver frowned at him from the bed, armed with a veritable menagerie of plush animals. Sam wondered with amusement who they had come from, then spotted a card on the bedside table signed from Izzie. Of course, Shaw wouldn't let anyone but his daughters get away with giving him stuffed animals. All the cops at fifteen knew not to visit unless they came prepared with food. Remembering suddenly that he had come prepared, Sam drew the paper bag from behind his back and grinned at Oliver.

"Yes, but, I brought a peace offering." He waved the bag in front of Oliver's face, laughing when the older man all but drooled on the pillow. The scent of cinnamon sugar filled the room, and he couldn't help wishing he had brought some of the donuts for himself. As he handed the bag over to Oliver, he couldn't help shaking his head. "You know you are seriously the picture of a stereotypical cop. Donuts, coffee, that little gut you got goin on. You're killing the image here, man." Sam pretended to whine, but he was secretly glad to see his friend back to normal. They had both been pretty shaken up after everything that happened with Andy, and although Sam had done his best not to lean on Oliver, he didn't know what he would have done without him.

"Alright, you're forgiven. You got my clothes? As youthful as my legs have been looking these days, what with all the cardio Celery and I have been doing, this outfit is a little breezy for the outdoors." He wiggled his eyebrows at Sam who burst out laughing, and threw a duffel bag full of clothes on the bed.

"That is not a picture I needed in my head man, thanks for that. Now go get dressed." Sam waited outside the private bathroom in Oliver's room, there were perks to being cops who got injured in the line of duty, and checked his watch. He had left Andy and Nick about 2 hours ago, and found himself wondering how the rest of that conversation had gone. He was drawn out of his thoughts by Oliver, who emerged fully dressed, with a ring of cinnamon sugar around his mouth. "You're a classy guy, Shaw." He gestured at his mouth, and Shaw ducked back into the bathroom to clean up his face. When he emerged, he was greeted by a smirking Sam, and a wheelchair.

"Oh, no way Sammy. Not gonna happen. Youthful legs, remember?" He gave Sam his most winning smile, then dropped his face into a grimace when Sam continued to stand behind the wheelchair.

"Buck up, Ollie, you usually love being driven around. Besides, it's hospital policy. Monica will have my ass if she hears I let you walk out of here." Oliver raised his eyes at that comment, but sat resignedly onto the chair. Sam gave a last glance around the room to make sure they hadn't left anything, then wheeled Oliver out into the hallway.

"So, Monica, huh?" Sam rolled his eyes at his friend, and didn't answer. "But I guess you're hung up on someone else." When Sam glared at Oliver, he shrugged. "Marlo?" There was a twinkle in his eye that suggested he was talking about someone else entirely, but Sam ignored it.

"Yeah, I guess." His face was closed off, and less brave men than Oliver would have backed down.

"She picked you up from the hospital, right?" Sam nodded, and Oliver waited for him to speak. Sam sighed.

"I didn't ask her to. I didn't even know she was coming, I had already called Noelle to bring over my truck." He looked annoyed even as he talked about it, so Oliver let it drop.

"Hey, can we just do something before I get out of here?" Oliver looked up at Sam, who shrugged and stared down at him, waiting for instruction. "Just take me to the third floor, there's someone I want to say goodbye to." He smiled innocently at Sam, who snorted.

"Real subtle, buddy." He rolled his eyes again, but pushed them both into the elevator and hit 3. The ride was quiet. Oliver sensed that something was up with Sam, he hadn't been nervous the last time he had been around Andy. He wondered if something had happened. When the doors opened and Sam steered them into Andy's room, Oliver watched Andy's face light up, and figured he would let Sam tell him on his own time.

"Hey, McNally. Just wanted to come rub it in your face that I'm sprung." Andy raised her eyebrows and Oliver scowled at her. "You know what I mean." She laughed and made to get up, but Oliver stood and walked over to the bed.

"How are you doing sweetheart?" He tried not to show the alarm he felt, he had been to out of it the last time he saw her to notice how bad she looked. It looked like there wasn't an inch of her that wasn't black or blue. He hadn't realized before that night how attached he had gotten to his former rookie, and now he was hit with emotion as he took in her battered state.

Andy smiled, then faltered when she saw Oliver's eyes glisten. She was just as surprised as he was at the emotional outburst, but she leaned forward to pull him into a hug. "I'm fine. I'm okay." She said it soothingly, and though neither man in the room believed her, they were both comforted by the fact that she believed it. She was strong, she would be okay eventually, even if she wasn't now. Oliver leaned back and sighed. He had given her a hard time over the years, hassling her about her relationship with Sam. The truth was, he had never seen his friend as happy and alive as he had been when he was with Andy. He could tell Sam was good for her too, but he also knew they had their issues. Sam never mentioned it, aside from one drunken night that he let slip to Oliver how much he missed Andy, and wanted a future with her. Oliver never brought it up, figuring Sam was too drunk to remember anyways. But had meant it. There was something about McNally after she got back, like she was keeping a secret. At first it had seemed like she was trying to win him over, but then there was something like a bottled up resentment, something that stemmed deeper than having your heart broken. Oliver suspected something had happened that she had never told Sam. He wondered if he would ever be able to get it out her.

"Hey." Sam nodded at Andy, scrutinizing her for some sign of what had happened earlier when he left. He was getting a little desperate to know what was going on with her and Collins, but after the way he had talked to her about it at the hospital, he wasn't sure it would be a good idea for him to bring it up. Andy smiled at him, her bright smile that he hadn't seen in ages. It nearly blinded him. Sometimes he thought he had fallen in love with that smile. It still got to him, like a punch in the chest, all the air left his lungs. He coughed and walked toward the window to collect himself.

"Where's Celery?" Andy asked, looking around expectantly. Sam chuckled, wondering what story Oliver was going to spin to cover the embarrassment of the truth. Oliver shot him a look, but Andy was peering inquisitively at Oliver, who sighed and sat down beside Andy on the bed.

"If I tell you McNally, you have to promise to keep it yourself. No gal talk with Peck and the ladies." He gave her a serious stare. Andy smiled.

"Well, Gail hates me, so that's not exactly an issue, but I promise not to tell anyone." Sam filed away that little piece of information, with a sinking feeling it had something to do with Collins. He tuned back into their conversation just as Oliver was getting to the point.

"She, uh, she had a bad allergic reaction." Andy just waited, certain there was more to the story if he was being so secretive. "To the medication I was on." Andy frowned not sure she understood.

"So… Celery was taking your meds?" She shook her head, not really believing someone like Celery, who was so for natural medicine, would take her boyfriend's painkillers.

"Uh, not directly, no. It turns out they can be… transferred in trace amounts. And for someone who was highly allergic all it would take was a little contact with, uh…" He trailed off looking uncomfortable.

"Bodily fluids?" Sam offered from the window. Both Andy and Oliver looked up at him in horror, Oliver blushing furiously. Andy let out a giggle, then clapped her hand to her mouth. Trying, unsuccessfully, to contain her laughter, she clapped the senior officer on the back.

"Go, Oliver!" She let out another snort, then let out a noise of surprise and clutched at her stomach. "I think I might have busted my stitches, it feels wet." Sam was at her side in a flash, Oliver jumped off the bed so Sam could pull back the covers. What they saw had Sam drawing in a sharp breath. Blood soaked the sheets and Andy's pajama shirt, which Sam peeled gently away from her stomach. The minimal bandage that had been taped to her abdomen was completely saturated with blood, and even as Sam tried to determine where it was coming from, he knew this wasn't a case of ripped stitches.

"Oliver, get a nurse." He looked up at his friend, who hurried out of the room. Sam turned his gaze to Andy, his eyes stormy with concern, and anger. "Jesus McNally, you didn't feel that? You should have told someone you were in pain."

"Sam…" Andy looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear. "That's the thing, I wasn't. I can't feel it at all. I can't feel anything."


End file.
